


this ledge i'm on

by gracelesso



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Finger Sucking, Kink Discovery, M/M, Mild Feminization, No Hint of Plot, Shameless Smut, Steve's tits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 09:31:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18070826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracelesso/pseuds/gracelesso
Summary: “Jesus Christ, look at you. Always been a sweet little thing but God, Stevie, what a sight. Just look at these pretty tits -”The second it slips out of Bucky’s mouth, he freezes, watching for a reaction, half expecting Steve to pull off him and roll away. What he doesn’t anticipate is Steve flushing right the way down to his - well. To the topic at hand. He’s not expecting Steve to gasp and duck his head like he’s been caught keeping a secret.Bucky slides his palms from where they were gripped tight on Steve’s slim waist until they frame his chest perfectly, pushing right up to make a deep line of cleavage. Goddamn, he’d never have dared call Steve sweet before for fear he’d lose an eye, but his guy’s got curves as good as any dame now, and he blushes like one, too.“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” smirks Bucky, hiding his surprise behind bravado, voice low in case there’s anybody about. He rolls his hips against Steve, slow and filthy. “You coming over all shy on me?”





	this ledge i'm on

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday, pal

“Jesus Christ, look at you. Always been a sweet little thing but God, Stevie, what a sight. Just look at these pretty tits -”

The second it slips out of Bucky’s mouth, he freezes, watching for a reaction, half expecting Steve to pull off him and roll away. What he doesn’t anticipate is Steve flushing right the way down to his - well. To the topic at hand. He’s not expecting Steve to gasp and duck his head like he’s been caught keeping a secret.

Bucky slides his palms from where they were gripped tight on Steve’s slim waist until they frame his chest perfectly, pushing right up to make a deep line of cleavage. Goddamn, he’d never have dared call Steve sweet before for fear he’d lose an eye, but his guy’s got curves as good as any dame now, and he blushes like one, too.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” smirks Bucky, hiding his surprise behind bravado, voice low in case there’s anybody about. He rolls his hips against Steve, slow and filthy. “You coming over all shy on me?”

Steve’s eyelids flutter shut, and he’s squirming a little, chewing on his lip. Christ, he looks perfect like this, his big new body spread out on the too-small bed, legs up on Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky stills, then swipes his thumbs over Steve’s nipples in lazy circles. He watches Steve bite down harder, clenching his jaw in an effort to cut off the small high sounds he’s making, keep himself quiet. Bucky bends down, folds Steve nearly double to kiss him deep and dirty. His hands don’t let up, continuing their slow work.

When he pulls back, Steve’s breathing is ragged and hitching and his eyes are hot. He looks vulnerable as he glances down to where Bucky’s touching him, like he wants to say something but he’s not sure where to start or whether he’s allowed. The honesty of his expression disarms Bucky completely.

“Steve?” 

He doesn’t answer, but takes Bucky’s left hand, guiding the fingers to his mouth and sucking on them for a few seconds, tongue soft but purposeful on the pads. The intimacy of it rips through Bucky as Steve pulls off, turning his face away. His fingers leave a slick trail across Steve’s cheek and he strokes at his face, rubs a little at the corner of his lips, not quite asking for more. Steve mouths at them once, wet, before taking Bucky’s wrist and replacing the hand on his chest. His eyes have closed, like he wants to hide from Bucky even as his back arches up off the lumpy mattress. Something clicks in Bucky’s mind as Steve pushes up into his touch.

“Baby,” he breathes, almost drunk off the realisation, “did you like that? Like me touching your chest?”

Steve gasps and flushes darker, eyes screwed shut in shame even as he presses his torso against Bucky’s hands. 

“C’mon Stevie, you gotta tell me. This what you want? Just the touching?” Steve sucks his lower lip between his teeth, worrying at it like he’s afraid of what he’ll say if he lets it go. His hands make fists in the sheet while Bucky questions him, low and amused. “Or you like hearing me talk about this gorgeous new rack of yours?” 

At that last Steve cracks, a sound that’s not far from a sob bursting from him as his cock jerks hard and untouched between them. Bucky flinches, because anybody could hear that and there’s no mistaking it for anything but what it was. They’re playing with fire here, even though the house was empty an hour ago and he doesn’t think he’s heard anyone come in. He can’t be sure though, with Steve taking up most of his attention.

“Bucky, please,” says Steve, barely above a whisper but God almighty he sounds just as desperate and wrecked as he looks. “Please -”

The raw edge to Steve’s voice breaks something in Bucky, and words spill out of him, barely coherent.

“Please what, sweetheart? Ask me anything, you know you just gotta ask, you know I can’t say no to you, anything you want, fuck, baby it’s yours -“

“I need,“ Steve interrupts Bucky’s flow, still not looking at him, still sounding ragged and needy and so goddamn embarrassed. The words go straight to Bucky’s cock and he feels it twitch, buried deep inside Steve. From the high-pitched sound he makes, Steve felt that too.

Bucky doesn’t say anything, tries to keep his hips still as he holds his tongue like a dam keeping back all the filthy praise he’s ready to pour over Steve. He wants to let him get there on his own, and truth be told he’s loving the deep pink of Steve’s shame, the way he’s squirming slightly like whatever he’s thinking makes him uncomfortable, like even this powerful new frame can’t quite contain whatever it is he’s on the verge of asking for. Steve opens his eyes just a fraction, peeps up at Bucky from under his thick eyelashes, then ducks his chin to the side as he mutters something.

“Didn’t catch that, doll,” says Bucky, gentle now as he picks up his lazy grind once more. “What is it you need?”

Steve sucks in a shattered breath, straightens his head, looks Bucky full in the face as a new charge floods the small space between them. A shiver runs down Steve’s entire body and his heels dig into Bucky’s back, driving them flush together. It’s Bucky’s turn to gasp as he feels all the strength in Steve’s legs and he looks down at this sculpture of a man, so strange and perfect yet still so absolutely _Steve_ spread out below him. Christ, it’s almost violent the way he loves him. He feels breathless, punchdrunk.

“C’mon sweetheart,” he manages, voice choked. He’s close, too close, he needs to buy a second to compose himself but Steve’s right there, looking him in the eye with a hint of a challenge showing through the shame and it’s a match to Bucky’s body. Coals catch light and smolder in his gut while a brushfire rages across his skin. “Tell me what I can give you, let me -”

“Want your mouth on me,” says Steve in a rush. Getting the words out seems to loosen something inside him, the tension unspooling and his eyes on Bucky softening into openness and hunger. “On my - tits, Buck, I liked that, you saying that, please Bucky, touch me, God.”

And Jesus Christ isn’t that something. Bucky’s never once heard Steve cut loose like this, never heard him ask for what he wants no matter how much Bucky coaxes him, always curls up like a hedgehog, all deflection and hurt pride. Now he’s open and a little needy and it gets at Bucky right to the core as he breathes out a reply, barely knows what he’s saying, just wants to give and give whatever Steve’s willing to take from him. “Yes, yes baby, anything, fuck, let me give you what you need.”

The sound Steve makes can only be described as a whimper, high and strangled in his throat as Bucky unhooks his legs, fucking hard into him for a brief moment as he runs hands up Steve’s massive thighs and up his hips, over the span of his hard stomach to his chest. Then he pauses, watches the swell of Steve’s pecs rise and fall with his breathing, a little uneven but it’s safe now, he can afford to tease, it won’t hurt Steve. He watches his eyelashes flutter against his cheek, same as ever, that’s his guy right there.

“Fuckssake, Bucky, please,” he says and that little bite in his voice is the same, too. Like he’s not seconds from coming apart under Bucky’s hands, like he’s asking him not to leave his shoes lying around their bedroom. Bucky tuts.

“Impatient, huh? What if I wanted to take my time with you? Go slow, figure out what gets you worked up these days.” Steve tries to glare at him but the effect’s ruined when Bucky slips two fingers up to rest on either side of his nipple, the belligerent jut of his chin coming apart as his eyes fall shut and his mouth opens helplessly. “I think you’d like that.”

Keeping his right hand where it is, he leans down and strokes Steve’s full lower lip with his other index finger, revelling in the breathy little noises he’s making and the smooth slide across the red skin. He pushes further in, past Steve’s teeth, feels the moment Steve understands what he wants and closes his mouth around them, and then Steve takes over, sucks and sucks like he’s dying for it, makes little desperate humming noises, and suddenly it’s taking all Bucky’s self-control to remember that there’s a plan, that this is about Steve, that he can’t just give up and chase his own satisfaction because fuck, Steve’s mouth is a sin even on his fingertips. It’s torture. Steve opens his eyes just a little and smirks, with his cheeks bright red and Bucky’s fingers swallowed to the hilt, lip sloppy and obscene against his palm. 

“Bastard,” Bucky grits out, ignoring the catch in his breath. Steve pushes up against him, greedy, and Bucky closes his fingers around the hard nipple just enough that Steve whines pitifully around his mouthful. His eyes blink open, a little unfocused. “Good?” Bucky asks, and he nods. “More?” He nods again, face clear and open. Bucky pinches a little just to hear Steve hiss. “You gonna be good for me, sweetheart?” He slides his other hand down and massages at the firm muscle of Steve’s chest, fucking him easily as he does so. Steve reaches up a hand, grabs at the back of Bucky’s neck, not quite pulling but communicating what he wants clear enough. It’s not in Bucky to tease anymore, not in him to deny something Steve’s asking for when it’s everything he wants to give, so he dips his head down and kisses along Steve’s collarbone, sucking little marks and nipping at the skin as he goes. Steve’s grip tightens a little and Bucky takes the hint, thanks God Steve’s so much taller than him now, and moves his mouth down to close over one tight pink nipple.

“Bucky!” It comes out as a yelp as Bucky teases at him, and Christ alive, Steve’s more sensitive than any girl he’s ever done this to, writhing under his hands and his tongue like his nerves are alight, like he doesn’t know whether to push Bucky’s head down or pull away. It’s exhilarating, the helpless noises his baby’s making and the reflexive tugs on the short hair at his nape. He’s never got Steve this way before, not with his fingers, not by sucking his cock, not with his face buried in Steve’s ass like it’s the only well in the desert. From his current angle, all Bucky can see is the line of Steve’s jaw and the arch of his flushed throat, shifting as he tries to swallow the little sounds he’s making. Bucky swipes his tongue across the raised point, small sharp flicks that have Steve sounding like he’s damn near tears. His fingers play over the other side of his chest, smoothing across the swell of it. It’s funny having Steve this keyed up when he feels almost peaceful, leisurely as he takes his time. When he pulls away, Steve almost sobs.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, leaning up on his forearms and shifting in a way guaranteed to remind Steve about the cock still sunk deep in his ass. “Murder on my neck getting down there like that.” Steve blinks at him. “Christ but you’re pretty, baby. Lying there all sweet and desperate while I suck on your tits, best girl I ever had.” That earns him another blush, and he gropes at Steve’s waist, greedy, wanting. “Sweet thing, just look at you, look at these curves, God almighty, you’re too much, don’t know how I lasted this long, been wanting to get my hands on you for weeks.”

Against his stomach, Steve’s cock twitches hard. “You want me to get that for you?” Steve doesn’t reply, stares up at him all big eyes and parted red lips like he’s seeing God on Bucky’s face. Bucky reaches down and wraps his fingers around the length of Steve, strokes him slow and easy until Steve shakes his head a little.

“I want -” he says, not uncertain like before but as if he’s somewhere far away. “Just wanna be fucked,” and Bucky nearly falls on him, knees gone weak, because Steve’s far enough gone that he’s not even blushing, just straight out asking for it and hell, it’s not like Bucky’s going to refuse him, not now, not ever, not when Steve's drifting, pliant beneath him, eyes like a summer sky and a body like Christmas morning. Still, it takes him a couple of seconds to get control of himself, push through the ringing in his ears and all the while Steve’s lying there so sweet, hair sticking to his damp forehead and no idea of the effect he has. He lets out a little sigh, dreamy, and that’s it, Bucky’s gone too. He fucks into Steve like it’s a challenge, like the whole world’s stripped down to the two of them, this room, the sounds Steve’s making - Jesus Christ if there’s anyone in the house they’re in trouble, but he doesn’t care, it doesn’t matter, Steve’s _his._

He grabs at Steve’s waist where he’s arching up off the mattress and lifts him, fingers biting hard into the lush curves of his ass as he pulls their bodies tighter together. His thumbs dig in, bruising at the muscle below Steve’s hipbones, the lines of them framing his cock where it’s fallen back, heavy against the planes of his stomach. Steve cries out, pulls one hand over his face like he’s overwhelmed and no, Bucky’s not having that. “Look at me, come on sweetheart, open your eyes, wanna see your pretty face, show me.” Steve whines again, looks up at Bucky all dazed and wanting, no sign of shyness and it’s too much, not enough, he’s too much like this, it’s a crime.

“Oh God, Stevie, sweetheart, baby, look at you, fucking look at you, so good for me, so pretty.” The pace Bucky’s set is relentless, hitting deep inside Steve with every snap of his hips and he’s home, this is where he belongs, heat licking up his spine at the helpless sounds Steve’s making. He reaches up to Steve’s chest again, harder now, kneading at him and dragging his nails. Steve’s breathing goes harsh, shallow and he clutches at Bucky’s wrist and just like that, he comes, hot and abrupt.

Bucky stills, stunned, as Steve goes off all over his stomach, head tipped back and mouth open, shameless and sweet and vulnerable. A streak of come hits his chest and runs down into the dip between his pecs and Bucky reaches out, unthinking, runs his fingers through it, spreading it, and then puts his hand to Steve’s jaw, kissing his slack mouth like a starving man. Steve’s making little gasping sounds into his mouth and he’s so hot around Bucky, and then he turns his head and sucks at the tender patch of skin behind Bucky’s jaw and somehow that’s enough. He tips over the edge with a little punched-out groan, feels himself shoot off inside Steve, hard enough that the pull in his gut is barely the right side of painful.

“Jesus Christ,” he says when his head clears. He rolls away, props himself on one elbow and looks at Steve, really looks at him. “You’re a mess.” Steve looks devastated, fucked out like Bucky’s never seen before. His face is slack and blissful, color high on his cheeks. His little pink tongue darts out, licks at where Bucky’s hand left his own come just below his lip, and Bucky damn near dies on the spot. He pulls a pillow over his face and groans. When he resurfaces, Steve’s grinning at him, still a little hazy. “You liked that, Buck?”

“Son of a bitch, you need to hear me say it?” Steve nods, trailing a finger absently through the mess on his chest. Bucky dives for cover in the pillow again, face down this time, because he can’t handle this, he doesn’t know what to do with Steve this open and easy and unguarded. “You’ll be the death of me one day. Yeah, I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

A big hand creeps onto his back, rubbing gentle circles into the skin between his shoulder blades. It feels good, easing the static out of his nerves. He thinks maybe he could sleep tonight. Somewhere above him, Steve says, “I like you a lot.”

Bucky kicks him.

**Author's Note:**

> massive thanks to everybody who's encouraged me, whether or not they knew that was what they were doing, or listened to me bitch about limb placement and the challenges of finding ways to say jizz that aren't jizz
> 
> i'm on twitter at [@gracelesso](https://twitter.com/gracelesso) yelling about supersoldier beef --- pretty much all the time so if that's your thing? come say hi


End file.
